


stay with me, no, you don't need to run

by whimsicalMedley



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: (not super important but it's in there), Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Battle of Manhattan (Percy Jackson), Book 5: The Last Olympian (Percy Jackson), Gay Michael Mell, M/M, Mutual Pining, Near Death Experiences, Pining, Songfic, Trans Male Character, Trans Michael, Trans Michael Mell, i think that's everything lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 14:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16389449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicalMedley/pseuds/whimsicalMedley
Summary: Jeremy Heere abandoned Camp Half-Blood to join Kronos’ army. Michael Mell picks up the pieces.





	stay with me, no, you don't need to run

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [aphiemi](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16270541) by [worstgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/worstgirl/pseuds/worstgirl). 



> sdgjdfjiofdsjio i love pjo, i love bmc, so BAM!!! this was inspired by a kickass fic i saw, so check that one out too!!!!
> 
> thank you, and enjoy!

_When everyone you thought you knew_   
_Deserts your fight, I'll go with you._   
_You're facin' down a dark hall_   
_I'll grab my light  
And go with you, I'll go with you._

_—My Blood by twenty one pilots_

* * *

Michael Mell was a normal demigod.

A son of Hephaestus, Michael spent his summers at Camp Half-Blood, and his school year in a small town in New Jersey. He was pretty good at keeping his godly parentage a secret, since the only obvious thing he could do was burst into flames (which he had finally gotten a handle on, thank you very much).

Michael had plenty of friends at Camp. Christine Canigula, daughter of Apollo, would drag him into the camp singalongs when he was too nervous to do it on his own. Brooke Lohst, daughter of Demeter, would let him lay his head down and weave flowers into his hair when he was stressed. Chloe Valentine, daughter of Athena, would work through Michael’s ADHD and help him study. Jenna Rolan, daughter of Hermes, would cheer him up with the Camp’s latest gossip. Jake Dillinger, son of Dionysus, would sit with Michael and let him ramble about anything and everything. They were a big group, and they all contributed their own things.

They all tended to ignore the two empty slots that always seemed to plague them when they were all together.

Michael knew that Jake had taken it personally when Rich Goranski, son of Ares, abandoned the camp for Kronos. He hadn’t been the same since. He didn’t laugh as much, and whenever he told a joke, he’d look to his right, as if he was waiting for the laughter, but then remembered that there was no one there anymore.

Michael understood what that was like.

Jeremy Heere, son of Aphrodite, and Michael’s best friend of ten years, left too. One day he was at Camp, laughing and joking with everyone, and the next, he disappeared. Nothing but a note left on his bed to remember him by.

_The gods deserve to suffer for what they’ve done to us. And I want to make sure that happens._

Jeremy had always been angry about the slot he’d been given in life. Michael knew that. But he didn’t think that Jeremy would’ve ever gone as far as to leave everyone who loved him for an _actual_ monster. It hurt.

Michael had locked himself in the forge for a week after it happened, and the only reason he had left was because he passed out from exertion. He woke up to Christine’s angry face looming over him, and after chewing Michael out for not taking care of himself, she burst into tears.

“We already lost so many people,” she hiccuped, “I can’t lose another friend, Michael. I can’t.”

Michael started listening to his siblings and friends after that.

Besides, there was a war looming. He needed his strength if he wanted to survive it.  


* * *

Suddenly the war wasn’t on the horizons, it was here, and Michael was scared out of his mind. Standing in a group of 40 demigods while Kronos’ army was thousands strong wasn’t very good for morale. Percy Jackson was giving a speech, trying to rile everyone up, but Michael wasn’t listening.

A hand gently wrapped around his, and he turned to look at Christine, who was smiling at him worriedly.

“You might see him.” She whispered, and Michael didn’t need to ask her who she was talking about, “and if you do, I need you to promise me that you’ll fight back.”

Michael’s eyes widened, and as he started to protest, Christine gripped his hand tighter.

“No. Jeremy isn’t on our side anymore, Michael. He won’t spare you, so you can’t spare him. A lot of us are going to die today. I don’t want one of them to be you.” Christine’s eyes were brimming with tears, and Michael swallowed around the lump in his throat. Michael pulled her to his chest, and she sniffled and wrapped her arms around his middle.

“I’ll be okay. So will you. We’re going to make it out of this, okay?”

Christine nodded jerkily, and with a final squeeze, she was gone.

“She’s right. She gave Jake the same talk about Rich, and you both convinced her. But not me.” Chloe’s voice called out, and Michael turned with a sigh.

“I can’t, Chlo. I can’t do that to him. He’s my best friend.” Michael whispered, and Chloe glared at him.

“Oh, so what? You’re going to just let him live?” She snarled, and Michael felt his own temper flare up.

“I’m not hurting him!”

“So you’d let him kill you?”

“I’d rather die than hurt him, so yes!” He yelled, and they both froze. Chloe blinked back tears, and the fight left her posture.

“Then I hope that the fates don’t let him anywhere near you.” She replied hollowly, and Michael looked at the ground, ashamed.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. You’ve always been too nice for your own good. It’s your fatal flaw, Mell. Just don’t let it get you today.”

* * *

It was chaos.

Michael could hear the shouts of his fellow demigods, the hisses and growls of the monsters, and the clashes of blades. Michael adjusted his grip on his sword, and slashed his way through the hoard of monsters around him. He wasn’t the best fighter, but he could hold his ground.

_Nowhere near as good as Jeremy was, but—_

He stumbled, cursing as a hellhound almost bit his head off. Michael slashed through it, and then turned to see an arrow embed itself in a beast’s chest that had been sneaking up on him. He turned to nod at the Apollo kid (a kid _also_ named Michael), and then got back into the swing of fighting.

Michael was tired, though. He’d been hacking away at enemies for hours, and his arms were burning. His glasses were slightly cracked, so his vision wasn’t the best. A demigod had managed to get a good hit on his arm, and the wound was throbbing. His helmet and chestplate was weighing him down, which sucked, but Michael knew better than to take them off.

Michael wasn’t holding up that well, and he could feel it.

Huffing out a breath, he turned to see a demigod rushing him. Michael couldn’t see his face, but the look in his eye screamed _“I’m pissed off and have a sword, so watch out.”_ which was decidedly not good, considering the son of Hephaestus hated fighting other demigods.

So far, he’d managed to not kill any demigods he came across. Disarm and incapacitate them? Sure. But not in a life threatening way. The thought of killing another teenager, a teenager who had simply lost sight of what was right and wrong, didn’t sit well with Michael. So he didn’t. But this guy did _not_ look happy.

Michael barely had the time to lift his sword and block the hit that came at him. He parried the next hit, and the fight really began. Whoever this kid was, he was _good,_ and Michael was quickly put on the defense.

The fight continued, and something dawned on Michael: The fighting style. It was familiar. It was _too_ familiar. It reminded Michael of lazy summers in the sun, laughing with his best friend as he repeatedly disarmed Michael.

_“C’mon Micah, at this rate, you’ll get killed in five minutes!”_

Without thinking, Michael reached up, managing to lift the helmet off of his opponent’s face.

It was Jeremy.

Michael stilled, looking at a face he used to know like the back of his hand. It was older now, darker, angrier. His blue eyes, normally full of spark, were dark and cold. His mouth was set in a snarl, and Michael could feel his body go numb. This wasn’t his best friend. It wasn’t. He needed to fight back, or he was going to die. He needed to lift his sword and continue.

Michael dropped his sword.

A second later, pain exploded in his abdomen.

Looking down, he saw what was wrong. There was a sword sticking out of his side. The blade was twisted and then pulled out, causing a scream to rip itself out of Michael’s throat. He could taste blood in his mouth, and the only thing keeping him upright was Jeremy’s arms.

Jeremy let go, and Michael fell to his knees. He looked up at his old best friend, and vaguely registered that Jeremy’s face shouldn’t look like that. Jeremy shouldn’t look so happy at the prospect of killing another person. Michael could feel his body hit the ground fully, and his helmet got dislodged. He coughed, and the movement made his face visible.

Jeremy’s manic smile dropped, and his face, pink with exertion, went ashen.

“Michael?”

Michael, barely able to keep his eyes open, only coughed again. Everything was getting fuzzy around the edges, and he could barely think. There was too much pain. Swallowing blood, Michael tried to smile at his old best friend.

“Hey.” He said softly.

After a few seconds of frozen silence, Jeremy suddenly scrambled forward, landing on his knees next to Michael. Looking at the blood covering Michael’s side, Jeremy started to shake.

“Shit, no no no, _Michael,_ I—” Jeremy started, but cut off when Michael smiled.

“I’m happy you’re alright.” He said, and Jeremy teary eyes blinked in surprise.

“I just _stabbed_ you, and you’re happy I’m okay?” He asked shrilly, and Michael frowned when he heard a sob come out of Jeremy’s mouth, “I—I need to get you to an Apollo kid, to Christine or something, where—”

“I think it’s a little too late for that.” Michael laughed deliriously, and Jeremy shook his head vehemently.

“No it’s not! Micah, c’mon, stay awake for me please—I’m _so sorry,_ I didn’t realize—” Jeremy cut himself off with another sob, and Michael frowned.

“Hey, no cryin’. Please.” He muttered, and Jeremy let out a crazed laugh.

“You always put people before yourself. It always pissed me off.” He said wetly, and when Michael apologized, he sniffled and replied, “you always apologized too much too.”

Michael coughed, and he could taste the blood in his mouth. Jeremy’s head snapped up at the sound, and he began to panic again.

“I’m going to get you help Micah, you’re going to be okay, I promise. You can’t die, I’m not letting you die, especially because it would be my fault. C’mon Micah, stay awake, _please.”_ Jeremy pleaded, and Michael tried to keep his eyes open. He was so tired though.

“No no no, Michael Mell you need to keep your eyes open, _please don’t do this to me—”_

Michael closed his eyes. He tried to apologize, but he wasn’t sure if he managed to get it out.

* * *

_Michael and Jeremy met in kindergarten. Michael Mell at that time was Elizabeth Mell, a girl with long hair in pigtails and a bright smile. Jeremy Heere was a quiet boy, who didn't smile often and kept to himself._

_Michael had walked up to Jeremy on the first day because he had noticed him crying. When Michael had asked what was wrong, Jeremy had timidly said that he missed his dad. Michael, who never could stand to see someone hurting, told Jeremy jokes and generally made a fool of himself to make him laugh. By the end of the day, they were best friends._

_Years later, when they were in middle school, Michael was given The Talk by his moms. Michael had always been able to see things that other people couldn't see, and do things that normal people couldn't. Bursting into flames was a good example._

_“Your father,” mama had started, “is a god. Hephaestus, if we’re getting specific. I know it's hard to believe Micah, but he told me himself. Haven't you wondered why you can do things that the other kids can't?”_

_Michael had believed her. He didn't have any reason to, but his moms hadn't lied to him before. And then, they brought up Camp Half-Blood._

_“What? No! I can't leave mama, I can't just leave Jeremy—”_

_“Michael, the monsters will start to notice you soon! You need to go there for your own safety. Please baby, just_ listen _to us!”_

_Michael had fought until his mom burst into tears. His mom never cried. After that, he agreed quickly. Anything to get his mom to stop crying._

_He knew that Jeremy had been devastated when Michael told him he was being sent to a summer camp, no matter how hard he'd tried to hide it. Michael couldn't blame him. They were each other's only friend, and a summer without Jeremy Heere sounded really fucking depressing._

_Michael absolutely despised Camp Half-Blood at first. He was claimed immediately, but he didn't want to talk to his siblings. He stuck to the forge or the cabin and sulked, no matter how many people tried to talk to him. Eventually, he became “Antisocial Headphones Kid” which stung, but. Yeah._

_So, naturally, Jeremy showed up at Camp three weeks later._

_Michael heard the commotion from the dining hall, and blinked in surprise as he saw a satyr running towards the barrier, dragging a boy with him. Hellhounds were on their tail, and before they could pounce, the Apollo Cabin had stood and shot them into a puff of gold dust. Michael looked in a sort of detached concern, but then he got a good look at the boy._

Jeremy?

_Michael shot up, ignoring the surprised cries of his siblings. He went as fast as his short legs could carry him, stumbling over to the clearing, panic clawing at his chest._

_“Jeremy? Shit, Jeremy, are you okay?” He shrieked, kneeling next to him and trying to figure out what to do with his hands. Jeremy blinked rapidly before settling his eyes on Michael, at which his face scrunched up in confusion._

_M-Michael? What-”_

_Michael laughed, a little hysterical, and pulled Jeremy into a tight hug._

_“I'm so happy you're here, dude.”_

_After a few seconds, Jeremy hugged him back fiercely._

_By the end of the summer, Michael and Jeremy had settled into Camp life. They had made friends with a lot of people, and mostly everyone else was friendly to them. It was so much better than school, where they were the social outcasts. The summer was spent lazing around the lake, training, and being dumb teenagers._

_The most memorable part of the year was on the 4th of July. They were by the lake, watching the fireworks. Michael had gotten used to hanging out with Jeremy while around a group of people, but that day, Jeremy had asked to be alone with Michael. Which normally wouldn't be a problem, but a few weeks prior, Michael had realized something big. He had a all encompassing, soul sucking crush on his best friend. Which made things a bit…awkward._

_As they watched the fireworks explode and shoot through the sky, Michael tried to not stare at his best friend, and the way his eyes reflected the fireworks. Or the gentle smile he wore on his face. Or the way their hands were practically touching. Or-_

_Jeremy turned to Michael, who did his best to smile widely. He seemed to buy it, and Michael breathed a sigh of relief._

_“You okay?” Michael asked, and Jeremy nodded slowly._

_“Yeah. It’s just been a very…hectic summer.” Jeremy replied, causing Michael to burst into laughter. He was shaking with it, and Jeremy soon joined in. Soon, they were both laughing hysterically, catching the attention of everyone around them, but uncaring of the fact._

_Eventually, Michael's giggles tempered off, and he looked over to see a strange look on Jeremy's face. It was soft and fond, and something else that Michael was too scared to name._

_“Something on my face?” He whispered, and Jeremy seemed to jump out of his stupor._

_“Uh. I um,” Jeremy looked ready to pass out, and Michael tilted his head in confusion, “Michael, I think I li-”_

_A light exploded above them, too close to be a firework. It momentarily blinded Michael, and when he could see again, he gasped in surprise. Jeremy was gently floating to the ground, his Camp Half-Blood shirt and jeans gone. Instead, he was in a toga, with a laurel wreath around his head. His face no longer had any acne, his hair was styled to perfection, and-_

Oh gods, I am so gay. _Michael thought dumbly._

_Jeremy had been claimed._

_After that, Jeremy got a lot of attention by almost everyone at camp. He was suddenly attractive to everyone (which, what the hell, Michael had always thought he was attractive), and people were almost always surrounding him. Jeremy pretended that he hated it, but Michael knew better. Jeremy had always wanted popularity, and now he had it._

_Michael tried not to show it, but he was a little (a lot) bitter. He and Jeremy had been friends for most of their lives, and now because of his mom, people were suddenly interested? Bullshit, Michael had dibs. But he didn't interfere. Jeremy was finally happy, and Michael wasn't going to mess with that._

_That’s why the letter that had come a few summers later had been such a shock._

I'm sure you've noticed by now that I'm gone. I've gone to Kronos’ side, and I don't expect any of you to come look for me. The gods deserve to suffer for what they’ve done to us. And I want to make sure that happens. If you're smart, you'll join us.

_Michael had torn the letter to shreds, and after kicking a few things for good measure, burst into tears._

I wasn't enough for him.

_It hurt more than he liked to think._

* * *

Michael woke up.

**Author's Note:**

> chapter 2 is like,,,,,halfway done, so don't worry lol
> 
> tumblr: persephones-pyre


End file.
